the nightwisk institute for higher magical education
by mizmi
Summary: Lazy bum Hogwarts graduate Emmaline Crews doesn't really know what she wants to do with her life after Hogwarts, until she receives a letter pertaining to her admittance into the newly founded Nightwisk Institute. At her urging of her parents, she decides to attend the mysterious school, and so opens a world full of adventure and mystery. Modern times. Rated T for profanity.


the nightwisk institute for higher magical education

chapter one: emmaline and her family

"What the bloody hell is this?" Emmaline's face scrunched up in confusion. What the hell is the 'Nightwisk Institute for Higher Magical Education'? Sounds prattish." She dusk gray owl seated on a chair at the kitchen table stared blankly at the dark-skinned girl, nodding it's head towards the envelope as if it were urging her to read it before judging.

Emmaline's mother answered in a typical motherly way, barely reacting to the owl on her table. "Read the letter, Emmaline. It looks important. Tell her, Christopher," Emmaline heard her father reply with a muffled 'Listen to your mother, Emma' from all the way in the kitchen.

The girl scowled, then reached into the now shredded envelope and pulled out the aged looking parchment inside. She read the letter out loud in a rather sarcastic voice.

Dear Emmaline Crews,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been selected from a wide range of Wizarding students across the world to attend the newly founded Nightwisk Institute for Higher Magical Education. You are most likely very confused, and understandably so. After all, we are an up-and-coming magical university. Not many have heard of our prestigious school. However, we are holding an open house of sorts on June 16th, and we urge you to attend and become acquainted with our school. Please send a reply ether denying or accepting our invitation to the open house with the owl.

Yours truly,

Head Mistresses Marisol Ortiz

Her dad, on the other hand, honestly couldn't be arsed with all their Wizarding business. He usually stayed out of most of it, unless it caused conflict.

"All this Wizarding mess is crazy," he would say, shaking his head. "If I didn't love you and your mother so much..." He always trailed off after he muttered this last part, even though Emmaline could always guess what he would say next. Regardless of this, Emmaline had always thought very highly of her dad. While he made it clear from the time that she performed her first piece of magic that he thought the whole Wizarding world stuff was weird, he was very supportive of Emmaline and her mom's Wizarding lives. In her first year of Hogwarts, he even visited Diagon Alley with them.

"Apparently I was selected from 'a wide range of wizards across the globe' to attend some Wizarding college. The open house is on June 16th, and if I attend that, I can still decide whether or not I want to attend," she shrugged nonchalantly.

"But what _exactly_ does the letter say? Let me read it," Her mother pried. Emmaline rolled her eyes and handed her needy mother the letter. Her mum's light brown eyes scanned the paper with greed. "I guess I'll go to the open house. It's not like I know what I want to do with my life anyway."

Her mother sighed and shook her head wistfully,setting down the letter. Now that her curiosity was sated, she started to munch on a piece of buttered wheat toast. "You really have no drive or ambition, do you, my little Gryffindor girl?" she cooed, miming pinching the 18 year old's flushed cheeks. "You'd better go to that open house and attend that Eggwisk Institute or whatever you said it was called. I'll pay anything just to get you out of my house." Emmaline rolled her eyes, and decided to start writing up the reply to the Headmistress' letter. She ran up the creaking stairs of the old Victorian home and into her bedroom to grab a quill and a piece of parchment off of her carelessly organized desk. Meanwhile, downstairs, that creepy gray owl resumed it's relentless stare and started to inspecting Mrs. Crews' hot cereal and toast.

"Hurry up, Emmy, before this bird eats me and my food," she hollered after her daughter.

Emmaline jotted down her quick reply to the strange letter on a piece of spare parchment (slightly ripped with a light splattering of ink in the upper right hand corner, but still usable) she had lying on her desk and then began her search for a clean envelope. She looked all around the house for an envelope; in her parent's room,' the parlour, the office, the sun room, even between couch cushions. The girl looked in probably every conceivable room and place upstairs before running to the balcony of the stairs, curly brown hair flying out behind her and screaming at her mother. "Mum, where are the envelopes? I can't find 'em!"

Her mother gulped down her toast and yelled back, "How the hell am I supposed to know? Ask your father!"

"You were the one who used them last, I saw you with them!" Emmaline wailed in retort.

"Calm down, I put them back in the parchment drawer, where they belong." her dad said in a calm voice that was a lot quieter than the one two witches had previously been arguing in.

"Well, why'd you do that, dad?" Emmaline rolled her eyes. and yelled, her upper body leaning over the banister. "It's dad's fault, mum. He moved 'em to the parchment drawer." Emmaline ran into the room where they ate their breakfast (much different that the fancy dining room they reserved for Muggle dinner parties) and opened the drawer. Sure enough, Her dad rolled his eyes and continued to flip his the last of his signature cinnamon pancakes. The Crews' family had very little in common (or at least, the men and women of the Crews' household differed very much) but one thing they all shared was a penchant for eye rolling.

Emmaline pulled out an envelope from the drawer and addressed it to Mrs. Marisol Ortiz of the Nightwisk Institute. She carefully placed her reply inside, sealed it with a long lick, and gave it to the gray owl sitting the chair, who then hooted in thanks and flew away.

Her father dusted off his apron and turned off the stove. "Here are your cinnamon pancakes, Em. I just want to say I'm really proud of your for taking the initiative to go to the open house, Em, even if it was just because," he set the pancakes down in the middle of the table and made sarcastic air quotes. "'It's not like I know what to do with my life, anyway.'" Her mother laughed obnoxiously and spooned hot cereal into her mouth, gazing lovingly at her husband. Much to Emmaline's annoyance, her dad made sickeningly

"I think it's weird how some strange Institute of Higher Magical Education knows about me, but I've never heard of the school before in my life," As soon as Emmaline had smelled the delightful cakes, she had sat down at the table immediately. She shoveled three of the sinful disks onto her plate and began to cut them up with her fork and knife. "Sounds a bit sketchy to me, anyway."

"Go search for the Eggwisk Institute on the computer," her father suggested. The computer in question was a magically enhanced one sold by Wizards, for Wizards. They became an instant hit with teens, children, and families alike, although older wizards are having a hard time getting used to the change. Her father was rather enthused to see that the Wizarding world had Muggle products for sale, even though her mom preferred Charming things to do her bidding.

"The Nightwisk Institute," Emmaline corrected. "And maybe I'll do that after I finish these pancakes, maybe I won't. I'm feeling kind of lazy at the moment..." She chewed her pancakes drowsily to prove her point.

Her mother glared at her. "This is what I mean, Emmaline. You have absolutely no drive. You did very well at Hogwarts, but you could have done even better if you had actually, oh I don't know, _worked harder._" Emmaline chose to ignore her mom and continued to gracefully cut up her pancakes. Her mother angrily watched her drizzle maple syrup all over the cut up pieces and put one in her mouth. She sighed. "It doesn't matter to me, anyway. You're an adult now; it's your life. Just try and make semi decent choices, okay? And don't stay in our house forever."

Emmaline only nodded, due to her mouth being filled with pancakes. Her mother got up without another word and enchanted her hot cereal bowl and her father's dished to wash themselves. He, too, was shoving his face full of his wonderful culinary creation.

"Honestly, sometimes when I'm with the lot of yous, I forget I'm a witch," she mumbled to herself, trotting up the stairs.


End file.
